Fea
by Cirdan
Summary: Feanor is dead, and my heart also.


Standard disclaimer: All the characters, locations, some quotes, and the initial conception of this world belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, whether it be from Lord of the Rings, The Silmarillion, Unfinished Tales, or The History of Middle-earth Volumes I-XII.  
  
Dedication: This fic is for Le Chat Noir. It's a fic of her fic Naro (storyid=1325952).  
  
Fea  
  
Maedhros sat by the side of his father's body in the Gardens of Lorien and stared at it without seeing.  
  
"You know," Maedhros didn't move, but Fingon knew was listening, "I guess by implication, Miriel is back too. Or rather, she was back after Finwe's death; we just didn't know it." Maedhros still didn't move. "And Finwe is alive and has two wives now. Arda is a beautiful place, is it not? After all, in Arda Marred, a man could not have two spouses." Maedros still didn't say a word. "And he's not really gone. We have a Tree, and though it's not him, well, it's a good father, isn't it?" Maedhros twitched imperceptibly. "Odd though," Fingon continued mercilessly, "I would've thought that, in place of Feanor, a giant tower would've sprung up miraculously." Another slight twitch. "Or maybe a star?" Maedhros actually rolled his eyes. "Or better yet, a fire like the one Elrond had in Rivendell in the Hall of Fire. Kind of like the Burning Bush, really."  
  
"Fingon, I'm not in the mood," Maedhros said shortly.  
  
"Will you ever be? Does anything really replace the loss of a father?" Fingon at last sat beside Maedhros and bowed thrice to the body of Feanor. "I lost Fingolfin for a time too, after the Battle of Sudden Flame. Hm, now that I think about it, it's a bit ironic." Fingon glanced at Maedhros to see if he reacted to this, but he didn't. "Battle of Sudden Flame," Fingon repeated then shook his head. "Very ironic indeed."  
  
"You're acting out of character." Maedhros spoke in a flat tone, as if he thought the lack of interest in his voice would deter Fingon.  
  
"Perhaps I'm acting a bit more like Glorfindel? The most annoying Elf to ever grace this land and be reborn with a vengence?" Fingon waited for a chuckle but didn't get it. "Did you think that perhaps you would be the one to not return for all your deeds? I was surprised, in all honesty, that you made it, having rejected the gift of life you'd been given when you threw yourself into that fiery chasm. And I was surprised that Feanor lived, at least long enough to break the Silmarils and break his own heart." Fingon paused. "I suppose you know a bit about heartbreak?" Maedhros probably nodded, but his movement was too slight to be perceived even by Elven sight. "I do as well."  
  
Fingon stood and dusted off his pants. "So then, the fire is here but the spirit is gone. It's a pity the landscape isn't as tumultuous as it used to be or I think you'd throw yourself into another fiery chasm," he said pleasantly. "Failing that, perhaps I will offer my sword to you. It's rather underused now that our enemies are no more, so I won't mind if you chip it while hacking the Tree limb from limb."  
  
"Oil and fire would be more effective," Maedhros said.  
  
"Then I will aid in your arson if that is what it takes." Fingon offered his hand. Maedhros took it, and Fingon helped him up. "You know why this is, don't you?"  
  
"Why?" Maedhros looked about to add a 'colorful metaphor' to his 'why' but restrained himself.  
  
"Because Eru is One, and he likes Feanor more, but Iluvatar is the All-father, and he likes you more. Only Eru and Iluvatar are one in the same, all in one, I suppose I would say if I were as obnoxious as Glorfindel, and so you get a special place in the world too." Fingon started to lead Maedhros to the two horses that were waiting to speed them to the Tree.  
  
"I have no idea what that meant," Maedhros admitted.  
  
Fingon laughed. "Nothing. It means nothing at all. But in history, you have also been the destroyer of the Silmarils, so maybe this is just and right." He touched the axe hanging from his saddle. "I'm afraid I only brought this."  
  
"No matter. I have alcohol." Maedhros mounted his horse in one smooth motion. "I couldn't drink myself into oblivion after all, and it'll work just as well as oil."  
  
"I wonder how they'll react to seeing the Tree in flames," Fingon pondered as they galloped along. "It'd be a most impressive sight, don't you think?"  
  
"How far are you coming with me?" Maedhros asked.  
  
"I wish I could come all the way with you," Fingon said. "But I know I can't go to where you're going next. I'm not Sam, and you're not Frodo. I suppose I should say goodbye, but nothing sounds quite right." This was all one big badly written story anyway.  
  
Maedhros nodded and reared his horse to a halt before the great Tree. They dismounted, and Fingon put blinds over the eyes of the horses. He stood apart as Maedhros poured the alcohol about the base of the Tree, and Fingon thought he heard Maedhros whisper some words, perhaps a prayer, as he watered the Tree. For a moment, Fingon imagined Maedhros doing this same motion as he set the Ships of the Teleri aflame, but then Fingon remembered that Maedhros had stood aside and taken no part in that deed. Then Fingon remembered that he'd forgotten to offer Maedhros the match-he'd had some inappropriate and supposedly witty comment to go with that match- but before he could take it from his pouch and speak, the Tree of Feanaro caught fire.  
  
And Maedhros collapsed.  
  
Fingon didn't wait to watch it burn. He didn't wait to meet the Valar, the Maiar, and all the Eldar rush to the brilliance that lit Arda Unmarred. Rather, he simply picked up the body of his friend and slung it over his horse and thought it odd that it was just as heavy as before. He tied the horse to his own and then rode back to the Gardens of Lorien that were so appropriately named. He could hear commotion all around, yet he could not discern the sounds from one another. Fingon lay the body of Maedhros to rest beside that of Feanor and thought it odd, yet not so, that Feanor had left remains, unlike his first death.  
  
Fingon bowed thrice to both father and son and said softly, "Feanor is dead, and my heart also."  
  
Fingon turned and left, never to return. It was all a dream anyway. 


End file.
